


Cold

by lionc



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, But I just had to get this out of my system, Group, I really feel terrible, I'm so soooo sorry, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Multi, Other, Power Dynamics, Seeking Warmth, Somewhere in between, Tavern, and before/during s6e01, heed the warnings plz, snowstorm, takes place after the s5e20
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionc/pseuds/lionc
Summary: After weeks on the road, Ivar and his trustful companion decide to stop at a tavern to spend the night.Both weary of the cold and the ruthless temperatures raging outside. Ivar encounters a group of battle worn mercenaries and tries to strike a deal with them, not knowing what's at stake.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Gold locks

The cold wind swept against his skin, clung to his bones and seeped deep into his core.  
If it wasn't for his trusted compagnion by his side, he'd certainly been dead by now, certainly in this terrible cold that seemed to last forever on their journey to... nowhere. Or at the moment, anywhere where they could take shelter against this never ending snowstorm that seemed to grow colder by the minute. 

Ivar was used to a lot, but these temperatures were more ruthless than ever. It was so different from the winter seasons at his hometown. 

The thought of it, of Kattegat only made him colder, the loss of it made him more angry, more desperate than he ever had felt before. It ached him, sometimes his thoughts grew more darker by the day and more lost than ever. Although, it hadn't broken his spirit yet, he simply wouldn't allow it to. He was a lot whole smarter than to lose his sanity at this point. He felt compelled to not let that happen. 

But there were moments that his mind wandered to Freydis, to his Mother what she would think of him right now and to his brothers, to Björn and in the end to Lagertha who not only fueled his hatred and bloodlust, but also his will to survive and finally take his prolonged revenge in the future.  
He was sure the gods were still on his side though, it was just a test, this was all just a simple test. 

Thats it, he was still in control. Still in control of this whole tedious situation, however dire the circumstances. He would prevail in the end, he always did. He just had to find new followers, thats all that mattered.., oh and a warm place to stay for the night, would also be nice.

Finally they arrived at a small village on the top of a hill, Ivar had no idea what this place was called, neither had he any idea of where they were. But to be honest, he was just too tired to really care about it. He just wanted a warm bed for the night and some broth that'll heat up his body and banished the cold from his weary muscles. 

They stopped at the first tavern he saw from his small cart, immediately hopped off and stumbled with his crutch towards the door. His companion took care of the horses and the rest of the stuff, he would join him soon afterwards. Ivar nodded to the long haired man and turned around, already feeling the warmth radiating from the door, ''must be crowdy.'' He thought, although his primair instincts kicked in to seek the warmth inside, he had to stay alert for any men who eyed him suspiciously.

He kept the hood carefully over his hidden face and opened the wooden door. A wave of warmth and cosiness immediately flew over him, it indeed was very crowded, music played happily in the background, an atmosphere of festivity hung in the air, women dancing together on the floor on cheerful tunes, men drinking at the tables, while they played simple games and laughing at simple jokes. For a moment it threw him off guard, he was stunned and captivated by the joyful crowd welcoming him with open arms. 

For the first times in ages, he forgot all the hatred and rage caged in his body.  
Even if it was just for a second, it reminded him of better times.. of home. While distracted by a beautiful blond haired woman dancing towards him and stealing glances, he didn't seem to notice the prying eyes coming from a table left of him. 

Not at all.


	2. Distracted

Finally, he ordered some food at the bar and sat down with a content sigh. His loyal companion joined him and they ate in silence, enjoying the warm meal. Although the mood was lifted, they both were rather tired of their journey. 

Ivar decided to call it a night and went to bed, while his follower had catched the eye of an attractive woman with a rather thick bosom. Ivar smiled to himself then and wished him well. It was still too soon for the young leader to seek the warmth of another woman, scars of the past haunted his dreams. 

He missed her, almost more than Aslaug, he missed her smile and the feel of her soft blonde locks in his hand. Although Freydis was born a slave, he realized she'd been more like a goddess, more divine than he ever was or ever could be. He wasn't a god, he knew that. He felt it almost everyday now that the gods clearly punished him for his lies.

Ivar closed the door of his guest chambers, leaving the busy noises downstairs behind and walked to the bowl on a table readied for him. He dipped his face in the cold water and rubbed the dirt from his skin. He felt a slight stubble on his chin, although it wasn't very visible in his own reflection in the water. 

Ivar sighed, for some reason he felt a bit irritated, maybe it was just the thought of home crushing into him when he entered this place or the blonde haired woman that reminded him of his dead wife. Ivar didn't know and was too tired to care. He sat on the bed and clicked off the braces from his fragile legs. While deep in thought. Harsh certain footsteps came upstairs followed by a small group of well armed men. It was too late before Ivar realized, he'd forgotten to lock the door. 

The small bunch neared his door, in a reflex Ivar grasped at the leader cashing of his sword. Panic overthrowed him instantly. ''Why! Why had he been so stupid to think it was safe enough to take of his hood and leave his door unlocked. He could stab himself for the stupidity. He wasn't safe! Not anywhere!"  
The small group of mercenaries invaded his room with ease and encircled him like a predator does to a prey. Ivar sat down calmly on the bed, not moving a limb, while his sword lay on his thighs, keeping it ready to lash out if needed. 

But first he awaited calmly and kept his heavy gaze steady to the men before him, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of showing any sign of defeat.  
'Can I help you men with something?' He asked in a cool tone, while emanating calmness and superiority. Because above all else, he was superior over them, he was the one in control here and held all the power, although the men didn't know it yet. They only saw a prize on his head. It was just a matter of time Ivar thought to himself, he would talk his way out of this, one way or another.

A darkhaired viking clearly the leader, looked him over with a mocking gleam in his eye and began laughing, taking the others with him in his roaring mood. The corner of Ivar's mouth twitched a bit, he didn't like to be mocked at certainly not from a low life mercenary.   
The man neared him and had a certain sweep in his step, an indication that he wasn't very sober.  
The viking battlestriken and all, bowed in an extravagant way so they were at eye level. Knowing very well Ivar couldn't go anywhere and he was totally at their mercy.


End file.
